


On the Subject of Alice

by IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Other, cw: finance bros, possessed Newt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 19:48:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15541701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou/pseuds/IDoNotBiteMyThumbAtYou
Summary: Drinking too much champagne, in a club that's too loud, lounging with a pack of idiot animals, Newt muses about the complicated love that might well be killing him.





	On the Subject of Alice

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended listening: "Horns" by Bryce Fox

 

“Dude, you’re so fuckin pussy-whipped, Geiszler!”

Newton took another sip of champagne and shrugged helplessly as Brad - or Eric? Or Hunter slapped him on the back in jovial  camaraderie . A corner of himself observed distantly that he was now in a place in his life where he spent time with the sort of people who said things like “pussy-whipped.” A place in his life where he didn’t immediately punch said men, and instead lounged with them on VIP couches and covered rounds of bottle service. 

“At least he’s getting some!” That one was definitely Eric. He had to yell over the music. Newton was usually the sort of person to find something enjoyable about any genre of music, but this was pretty much unlistenable. And so  _ loud. _ It felt like the music was chiseling his head open. Or maybe he just felt like he was dying because he’d been away from Alice for a week to go on this trip to New York with only small, shitty clone tissue, and a weak connection to get his relief. God he missed Alice. Which he probably shouldn’t have told these finance bros who were nearly half his age and had stopped maturing around the days of “girls have cooties.” 

“You’re doing it all  _ wrong _ !” Mike crowed, “You gotta get in and out and onto the next piece.”

“She’s a  _ very good _ piece, man,” Newt assured them, thinking of how difficult it had been to synthesize her. She was his pride and joy, and she had given him so much. He thought of those long, ecstatic nights that drove him insane, and the gentle whispering warmth of being inside her, where he lingered pressed flush to - at one with - what felt like a universe of minds. She was in his bones at her best, and she was what kept him alive day to day even at her worst. He shook his head and said into his champagne glass, “A hell of a piece.”

“Don’t matter! Don’t matter!” The boys all piped up like a chorus of chattering birds, excited to have found a unifying sentiment.

“You’re getting too attached! You  _ miss her?” _ Mike rolled his eyes so aggressively the gesture might as well have been its own sentence, “DUDE! It’s time to bail!”

“Nah, I’d get my ass kicked if I tried to leave her.”

“Scary brothers?”

“Something like that. But I don’t care, man. She’s like, the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. Like she… really takes it outta me. She might be killing me.” The boys laughed at the lewd suggestiveness of the phrase, “I’m serious! But I don’t give a fuck. There are days when being with her in our room is the best fucking thing in my life. I’d do anything for her. I  _ do _ … everything for her… And I mean  _ everything _ .”

The boys hollered and laughed and poured more champagne.

“Didn’t you used to be gay?” Brad shouted from right next to him, like a petulant cat demanding attention.

“Used to be? I didn’t  _ used _ be nothing,  _ Bradley _ .” Newt stood, and took the bottle from its bucket on the low table before them, and raised it in an arc, dripping everyone with icy water “I’m one of those dirty pansexuals your mama warned you about,” he pointed at Brad with the bottle,  _ “little boy.” _ He took a massive swig.

“I don’t think my mom even knows what that is,” Brad laughed

Hunter looked like Newt had just admitted to drinking his own pee. “I don’t think  _ I _ know what that is.” 

Newt put one foot up on the table like a colonist staking claim. “Come one,  _ come all! _ ” He took another triumphant swig of champagne, downing the bottle until the bubbles made him cough and sputter-spray the seated assembled douchebags. “It means I’d fuck Godzilla if I could, and I’d give them the TIME OF THEIR LIFE!”

The boys all laughed and cheered, and Newt was disgusted by how easily amused their little primate brains were. How easily their admiration could be bought with alcohol and oblique references to sexual virility. 

“Haha, Geiszler’s at it again!”

“Dude you’re crazy!”

“Wait,” Eric said, and Newt would have sworn he could see the tiny gears slowly piecing it together in his head, “so... you’ve sucked dick?”

“Yeah dude, no need to sound so eager.”

“Sucking dick?” Eric repeated drunkenly, “Nasty, man.” 

Newt frowned. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” The other boys laughed at Eric and tackled and play punched and wrestled like drunk puppies. 

But Newt wasn’t paying attention. He was smelling chalk. And the music was disappearing into the memory of a silence punctuated by a busy click clack of brilliant progress. Newt was touching a well-polished shoe with such gentle reverence that the click of chalk paused.

He was on his ladder, on the rung that put him at the perfect height for Newt to reach him. Exactly where Newt liked him. He was turning around. Newt was running his hand up his course trousers. He was holding his breath. He… 

Alice and the rest of Them screamed from 7,000 miles away (from an unfathomable distance of dimension) like microphone feedback, disrupting the memory and replacing it with a more intense headache, and a more thorough disdain for the music in this shithole than he’d had before.

Newt shuddered. “She doesn’t like it when I talk about that stuff though,” he finally said, and he quietly resumed his seat in the center of the couch.

“Is she  _ seriously _ afraid you’re gonna leave her for a  _ dude _ ?”

“Yeah.” 

“This is what I mean!” Brad hollered “Pussy! Whipped!”

The boys laughed racously again, and their easily distracted drunken attention was drawn by an altercation between a waitress and a guest who had grabbed her ass.

Newt smiled thinly and turned to look over at Brad, who was still next to him but facing away to watch the waitress curse out the idiot schmuck that was only distinct in that he wasn’t affiliated with this group of idiot schmucks. Newt tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey Brad?”

Brad looked up, laughter in his eyes. “Yeah, Geiszler?”

Smile still on his lips, Newt’s hand darted to grab Bradley’s loosened tie and pull him forward until he was inches away from his face, “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that you worthless little sack of meat.” the volume of the music only barely hid how his voice split demonically in its rage. “What the fuck do you know about Alice? Huh? You pathetic little speck of dust? What are you? Do you think you matter? Do you think any word, any action, any thought you’ve ever had has ever meant anything? You’re fucking nothing. You’re disposable. You’re less than interchangeable, you’re redundant. You’re a pest. You’re a termite. And when you die, I won’t give a single shit. I won’t even think about you, you puny little carbon turd. 

“Or maybe I will think of you. Just in case I’m ever tempted to feel bad, I’ll think about how at least this planet doesn’t have to waste resources on keeping sentient shit dispensers like you walking around turning oxygen into carbon dioxide. So I ask you again: what the fuck do you know about Alice?”

The boy was shaking so hard he looked like he might have pissed himself. “Woah. Woah. I’m s- I’m sorry man. I’m sorry. Y-you’re totally right. I’m sorry.”

Distantly, Newt looked down at where his white-knuckled hand was gripping Brad’s tie, like it wasn’t his hand. He thought about letting go of the tie and was almost surprised when the hand - his hand - did so.

He knew he had a reputation for unpredictable moods and a horrible temper. He straightened the boy’s tie, and gently fixed his collar. Everyone else at the couch had moved on, but Brad - pale, sweating, breathing fast and shallow - was staring at Newt in terror. He looked like a prey animal that had seen a monster, and was now too afraid to look away from it.

Newt smiled condescendingly and patted the boy’s cheek. Brad flinched at the contact.

Newt straightened up and addressed the group, arms spread, “Boys! Boys!” he said, a benevolent monster, “How about another bottle ‽ ”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Technically backstory for the Darkest Timeline Newt from my (Help) series.  
> Thanks to the muse Avelera for beta-ing


End file.
